


You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

by windycity



Category: Shameless US - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Mention of Child Abuse, just fluff, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:10:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2851967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windycity/pseuds/windycity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just Ian's feelings for Mickey without any plot even, I don't know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

**Author's Note:**

> I literally don't know what this is, I just wanted to write Ian's thoughts on Mickey and his childhood and failed completely. Ian is such a hard character to write. Well, anyway go ahead and read it and comment and stuff! I'm not a native English speaker so excuse me for any mistakes.

Ian didn't remember much from his first visit to the Milkovich house. He knows it was some years ago with Mandy, he can recall the stinging smell of alcohol in his nose and the way he felt kind of sick to his stomach watching her dad passed out in the couch with only his boxers on. Having grown up at the Gallaghers, Ian wasn't unfamiliar with chaos. Stuff went missing, people came and went, sometimes you'd have lunch alone and sometimes there wasn't enough food for everyone. Every day was different, but still in some weird way very similar. It was hard to explain, but it had always made Ian feel safe to have that kind of organized chaos around him growing up.  
What the Milkoviches had, Ian thought, was different. The mess didn't bother him, it bothered him how nothing really seemed to belong anywhere, not even the people. It wasn't a home really. It was a house with walls and a roof to keep them warm and dry, but that was all it was. There were people living there, but at the same time it seemed like everyone was just passing by. Ian had always thought what growing up there must have been like, and judging by the little things Mickey and Mandy had told him, his thoughts weren't that far from the reality. 

Ian remembers one time when he was looking for something from one of Mickey's drawers that were full of all kinds of crap, and he came across to a picture. He hasn't seen it since, but he still remembers it vividly. It had a young woman, probably in her mid-twenties. Her hair was black and naturally curly. She was wearing worn out blue jeans and an oversized purple sweater that made her look 10 pounds heavier than she probably was. Next to her, sitting on the bench, was a little boy with hair much like the woman's - sans the curls. He didn't seem older than three years, his clothes were baggy and his sweater sleeves were so long that they covered his hands entirely. What caught Ian's attention though, was the dark bruise around his left eye. The picture was blurry but Ian knew he wasn't mistaken.

Mickey had caught him looking at the picture and at first Ian had been startled. He had never spoken a word about his mom and Ian knew well enough not to ask. But that time, he had to and to his surprise, Mickey told. He told - not everything because Mickey never tells everything - but he told some things and Ian listened.  
"That was the first time he hit me, I think", Mickey had said after a comfortable silence had fallen over them.  
The way he made it sound so casual, like it was something that was supposed to happen, made Ian shiver. He had taken a better look at the little boy who, despite all, had a little shy smile playing on his lips and he couldn't help thinking how unfair it was. How unfair it was that while other kids scraped their knees learning how to ride a bike, Mickey scraped his when he tripped on the broken beer bottles in their living room floor. Although none of it was Ian's fault, he wanted to make up for everything, but making someone who had spent the first 20 years of their life believing they're good for nothing, realize they're actually as worthy as anyone, was hard. 

Ian was lying on his side, his face only inches away from Mickey’s. The brunet was fast asleep – had been for an hour and half already but Ian wasn’t tired. It was humid summer night and the blanket was kicked in the foot of the bed and the white sheets were all wrinkly under them. If Mickey knew that one of Ian’s favorite things was to watch him sleep, he would call him sappy. And maybe Ian was just that. He loved to watch his chest rise, loved how steady his breaths were. He loved Mickey's thick eyelashes and the way his lips were always chopped from his nervous habit of biting them. He even loved all the bruises and scars, he wished they didn't have to be there, but he loved them anyway. And maybe it as silly to have yourself totally fallen for someone like that, but Ian never really had much choice. He never thought that being in love would be like this, so unbelievably terrifying. He had given himself to someone could break him into pieces in a heartbeat. And it wasn't like they hadn't already broken parts of each other during the years, but Ian knew that the boy who had beat him up at the abandoned building was only a shadow of the one lying next to him that night. 

Ian ran his thumb lightly over the scar below Mickey's lip and smiled. It was kind of funny how someone as broken as Mickey, made him feel so whole.

**Author's Note:**

> Tittle from song called Iris, by Goo goo dolls. It's totally a Ian x Mickey song.


End file.
